


Experimenting

by seashadows



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Het, Infantilism, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:51:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seashadows/pseuds/seashadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nyota and Pavel experiment with some (entirely consensual) ageplay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experimenting

  
“Stop squirming, Pavel,” Nyota murmured in Russian. “I’ll smear your blush.”   
  
He glowered at her; from his vantage position on the bed, cross-legged with half his childlike makeup on, it wasn’t very threatening. _Eighteen_ wasn’t very threatening, as a rule, but Pavel Chekov could pull that off on occasion. The curls made it difficult, though. “Whose idea was it to put me in this nonsense?” he asked in the same language.   
  
“Yours, _dorogoi._ ” She patted his head. “Maybe not the makeup, but certainly the playing around. I dressed up for _you_ last week, didn’t I?”   
  
“Yes, but when I said let’s play I’m little, I didn’t exactly mean doll me up like a fucked-up _matryoshka_.” He crossed his arms, but obediently looked up when she lifted her fingers in indication. “Do you know how much Kirk will tease me if I show up wearing this?”   
  
Nyota couldn’t help but laugh, carefully dotting eyeliner-freckles along the apples of his cheeks, the straight pert line of his nose. He could be so clueless about certain things, genius navigator or not. “That’s why you won’t be wearing it on the bridge. We’ll wash it off after we fuck.” His pale cheeks flooded with a bright pink flush at her blunt phrasing; it was one of the things she loved about having him as her lover, how he insisted on saying what they meant but embarrassing so easily all the same.   
  
“Of course,” he muttered, ears showing pink as he ducked his head. Delectable. Her little baby, sweet Pavel, was embarrassed.   
  
Nyota held up a tube of lipstick, and he pursed his lips for her. He looked _good_ in these bright colors, she realized; the bright red she used only on special occasions matched his pale skin nearly as well as it did hers, on days she wanted to paint her mouth to match a sultry mood. She used smoky eyeshadow on those days, too, but the light charcoal shade would only look clownish on Pavel, and it wouldn’t be suitable tonight. Little boys didn’t wear Mama’s makeup - well, usually. She considered this a special circumstance, creating a baby’s soft red mouth for him. “Will you leave makeup on my sheets?”   
  
“Somehow, I don’t think you’ll mind if I do.” When he raised his eyebrow, he looked uncannily like Spock; Nyota suspected he’d been watching the Vulcan’s expressions. “Where do you want me this time, _Mamachka maia?_ Under you?” He grinned, face changing quicksilver fast from expressionless to expressive. “Your nipples are sensitive. This _onesie_ thing will rub them.” The odd Standard word out of the Russian was pronounced disdainfully, _vunsee_ , as he plucked at the rough snapped T-shirt that had been a bitch to replicate.   
  
“They will. I’m not wearing a bra,” Nyota told him, and smiled as she watched his face change, this time from mischief to lust. “Isn’t it logical, Pavel? You’re my baby, so I don’t need to hide my body.”   
  
“Am I going to suck my Mama’s milk? She has none.” His voice trembled, and from her position, one hip pressed against his, she could feel his erection push against her, very eager and _very_ adult. “Maybe I was born too late.”   
  
“Poor Pasha _krasiviy_.” Nyota lightly kissed his forehead. “No milk, but I’ll still cuddle my baby. He likes that, doesn’t he?” The role was surprisingly easy to slip into. “And I’ll help my baby feel nice down here.” One hand crept into the onesie, squeezing his erection just the right way to draw out a gasp.   
  
“ _Ay-yai-yai_ ,” Pavel squeaked, sounding just as childlike as he pretended to be. His eyes went wide with surprise and pleasure. “N-Nyota…”   
  
“Shh.” She laid a gentle kiss against his lips, cupping her palm around the base of him. Decidedly _un_ childlike here. “ _Mamachka._ ”   
  
“ _M-Mamachka_ ,” he repeated in a slightly higher tone, although she couldn’t quite tell if it was agreement or based more on the sensations her hands were giving him. “ _P-pusigda budyet’ Mama…_ ”   
  
An old song. “ _Pusigda budyo’ ya_ ,” Nyota whispered back, and smoothed his curls back with her free hand, smiling against his mouth. This was one of his better ideas, really. Much better than the time she’d found him smelling her underwear; not that she minded, but it hadn’t withstood the ensuing sex.   
  
Tomorrow night, she decided, she would call him _Papa_ and see what happened. He _did_ , after all, look excellent in a suit.


End file.
